Admission
by turbomagnus
Summary: NWZ - A short conversation in which Zorro makes an admission to Victoria begins a chain of events that threaten to break the fragile balance between Diego's three lives...
1. Admission

Author's Note: The 365 Project is an experimental _multi-fandom_ project to write and post at least one short every day for the next year, not including my semi-regular bi-weekly updates. For more details, see the relevent section in my profile. This is The 365 Project, 30 June.

In the immortal words of Samuel L. Clemens... "Persons attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted; persons attempting to find a moral in it will be banished; persons attempting to find a plot in it will be shot. BY ORDER OF THE AUTHOR."

Disclaimer: Zorro (this version, at least) belongs to New World Entertainment and the Family Channel and is used without permission or intent to profit.

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"Admission"  
By J.T. Magnus, 'Turbo'

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* * *

"I once had to make a choice... I could turn away, let each their own burden carry and accept that some would falter... or I could take the weight of the world on my shoulders, no one to pass it off to, no rest or slackening of the load... and in the end, all that I was made me take the weight."

"And let me guess; you've never regretted it?"

"No, I've regretted it every day since. I've regretted that the weakness of others is why I had to find such strength. I've regretted every battle fought when I wished I didn't have to... most of all, I've regretted my life being shaped in the way it has... 'Not for them the warmth of home and hearth, nor the soft touch of love's embrace', someone once said in the days of gods and heroes..."

"And which are you, god or hero?"

"Me?" He shook his head, "Just a man, possessing of certain... gifts, yes. But still just a man, like any other. I have a man's wants, needs... desires..."

She looked at him, eye to eye for what seemed like forever.

"The truth is I've been fighting for so long I've forgotten what it's like to not be fighting..." He broke the eye contact and looked away, "I'm tired. Tired of fighting, tired of having to fight... tired of knowing that every lull just means the next fight is going to be that much worse..."

"Zorro..." Victora reached for him and he waved her off.

"And worse," Zorro added, "Tired of knowing that the only things worse than what will happen if I fight are what might happen if I do not..."


	2. Admitting To Oneself

Author's Note: The 365 Project is an experimental _multi-fandom_ project to write and post at least one short every day for the next year, not including my semi-regular bi-weekly updates. For more details, see the relevent section in my profile. This is The 365 Project, 13 July.

In the immortal words of Samuel L. Clemens... "Persons attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted; persons attempting to find a moral in it will be banished; persons attempting to find a plot in it will be shot. BY ORDER OF THE AUTHOR."

Disclaimer: Zorro (this version, at least) belongs to New World Entertainment and the Family Channel and is used without permission or intent to profit.

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"Admission"

'Admitting To Oneself'

By J.T. Magnus, 'Turbo'

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Diego de la Vega sat in the courtyard of the local mission, one of the few places he found that he could be at peace and be his true self. Zorro had to be dashing and cavalier, unafraid and daring, willing to fight for the people against a corrupt government no matter the odds against him - but at the same time, Diego de la Vega had to be a studious scholar, interested only in his books and sciences; a spineless, worthless disgrace unworthy of being called a man, much less a de la Vega. The two had to be kept as far apart as possible to keep people - the Alcalde especially - from connecting the two as one. The truth was that he was both and neither. He loved to learn, but it wasn't the entirety of his life; he believed in standing up for what was right... but he also believed that it was the duty of every person to do so, not just of a select few or even one.

It was over that belief that he had come to seek solace in the mission. He was tired; mentally tired, physically tired, tired down unto his very soul. He was tired of being trapped between two masks, tired of being trapped in a fight that he'd never intended... Tired of being surrounded by people too weak-willed or cowardly to fight their own battles, but filled enough with the bile of hypocrisy to deride him for not, where they could see it, fighting their battles for them. Diego de la Vega was tired. He had never wanted any of this.

What had he wanted? In Spain, he had wanted to finish at the University, to eventually return home to California and take his proper place as a de la Vega with all that went with it. When he had arrived back in the Pueblo de Los Angeles and had seen how the sister of his childhood playmates had grown up, his wants had begun to include her by his side. With the arrest of Victoria and his father by Alcalde Ramon, Diego had wanted to free them. He had dressed in black with cape and mask, carrying the sword of his mentor and teacher from the University and had freed them from the cuartel, released them from their imprisonment... and became a prisoner himself by doing so - not of walls and bars, but of a far worse prison; a prison made up of the expectations and the desires of others.

Almost overnight, Zorro became a hero and a symbol to the people, someone willing to fight the tyranny of the Alcalde. They immediately began to expect him to rescue them and fight for them, as though he were some great hero of old. He had never intended for such a thing to happen. He'd only meant to free Victoria and his father so that they could return to leading the people of Los Angeles - Dons and peons alike. Instead, they themselves were the first people to actually lose their own willingness to fight in favor of threatening the Alcalde that 'Zorro' would not stand for his actions or that 'Zorro' would right a wrong. Diego learned the hard way that neither his father nor the senorita to whom he had lost his heart wanted him, they didn't want someone who considered themselves what the English would call a 'Warrior-Poet'; they wanted Zorro, they wanted someone who would ride in like the demi-gods of myth and strike down evil with terrible vengence... And he became trapped; the only way to help them, the only way to be acknowledged by them, was to become Zorro again and again, and the only way to protect himself - and them - was to seperate Zorro from 'Don Diego' so completely that no one would ever be able to connect them...

And he was growing tired - so tired - of pretending, whether it was Zorro or Don Diego, of being someone he was not... Alone, with no one else in the mission courtyard to see him but the eyes of God that watch over His children, Diego put his face in his hands and began to cry.


	3. Admission of The Son

Author's Note: The 365 Project is an experimental _multi-fandom_ project to write and post at least one short every day for the next year, not including my semi-regular bi-weekly updates. For more details, see the relevent section in my profile. This is The 365 Project, 11 August.

In the immortal words of Samuel L. Clemens... "Persons attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted; persons attempting to find a moral in it will be banished; persons attempting to find a plot in it will be shot. BY ORDER OF THE AUTHOR."

Disclaimer: Zorro (this version, at least) belongs to New World Entertainment and the Family Channel and is used without permission or intent to profit.

Has anyone noticed that Diego never appears in the intro to the NW Zorro - only Zorro?

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"Admission"  
'Admission of The Son'  
By J.T. Magnus, 'Turbo'

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* * *

Filipe read the note he'd been handed, then looked up and shook his head in response.

Sergeant Jaime Mendoza's shoulders slumped as he sighed, momentarily wishing the younger man could hear him - it would make the conversation so much easier. Taking back the piece of paper, Mendoza quickly wrote out a second message on it before passing it back to Filipe.

'When you see Don Diego again,' Filipe read, 'Please pass on my greetings to him and let him know that I miss his company; the Pueblo is not the same without him here.'

Filipe nodded, looked at the note, then nodded again - the Pueblo wasn't the same with his father-figure staying away except as Zorro. Unfortunately, it was proving the point Don Diego wanted to make too well that only Mendoza had truely noticed his absence and sought after him. Filipe had been shocked and tried to deny his father-figure's claim when he had told Filipe that he sometimes felt that if Diego disappeared, no one except perhaps Fillipe and Mendoza would notice or care as long as Zorro remained in Los Angeles.

Sadly, he could deny it no longer; Mendoza and he had been the only ones to notice when Diego had stopped coming to the Pueblo, even no longer appearing at the de la Vega hacienda for much longer than it took to find a book in the library or some tamales in the kitchen. Even Grandfather - Don Alejandro, Filipe had to remind himself, as he wasn't legally the younger de la Vega's son as yet - never noticed beyond shouting for Diego and making disparaging comments about how he was never around when he was needed when Diego didn't appear when called like a dog that had been whistled for by its master. Perhaps it wasn't the fairest of comparisons, but for aptness it had few equals. Filipe could not speak, for the longest time he could not hear, so he had found himself forced to learn how to 'hear with his eyes', to be able to see the hints and traces of things which most people would have noticed by hearing them; even after his hearing had returned and he had kept it a secret until Diego had returned to Los Angeles as a 'welcome home' surprise for his father-figure - and then later to help Zorro know what was happening in the pueblo - he had never lost the skill, he practiced it as much as his father-figure practiced chemistry or the piano. What Filipe heard and what he saw, and what he 'heard with his eyes', scared him; there was so much that was close to breaking, his father's relationships with Grandfather and with Victoria, his willingness to put his life and body on the line day after day for a pueblo that praised him as Zorro and yet showed no gratitude for the things he did as Diego...

The truth was, and Filipe could see it even if Diego himself could or would not, that Diego was close to breaking, with every passing day, the strain of living three lives grew heavier on Diego with no place that he could feel safe to be himself and no one to confide in - no matter how much Filipe was willing to take the burden from his father-figure's shoulders, Diego would never think to put such a weight on the young man he saw as a son, especially not after the way in which Alejandro had called the younger de la Vega back from Madrid for no more reason that to fight the battles of others for them with no regard to Diego's own life in Spain.

Filipe was pulled from his thoughts when Mendoza tapped him on the shoulder and the Sergeant waggled his fingers in a gesture for goodbye that the younger man returned with a wave of his hand before Mendoza walked away, leaving Filipe to wish that Mendoza or someone like him were the Alcalde, then his father wouldn't be caught between who he was forced to be, who he had to be to protect who he was forced to be, and who he truely wanted to be...


	4. Admitting Before God

Author's Note: The 365 Project is an experimental _multi-fandom_ project to write and post at least one short every day for the next year, not including my semi-regular bi-weekly updates. For more details, see the relevent section in my profile. This is The 365 Project, 12 August.

In the immortal words of Samuel L. Clemens... "Persons attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted; persons attempting to find a moral in it will be banished; persons attempting to find a plot in it will be shot. BY ORDER OF THE AUTHOR."

Disclaimer: Zorro (this version, at least) belongs to New World Entertainment and the Family Channel and is used without permission or intent to profit. Diego's rant is borrowed from "The West Wing".

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"Admission"  
'Admitting Before God'  
By J.T. Magnus, 'Turbo'

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The gunshot's crack cut through the normal everyday sounds of the Pueblo de Los Angeles, drawing the attention of all who heard it to Victoria's tavern. Among those who heard it was a man who had in recent weeks become something of a ghost in and around the Pueblo; a man whom, if asked, many would claim to have seen recently but when pressed wouldn't be able to tell the questioner exactly when and where they had done so. It would surprise them if they were to learn that his visit to the Pueblo on that day to prepare the monthly edition of _The Guardian _newspaper was, in fact, his first visit to the Pueblo in many weeks. If they had realised it, no one wanted to admit to others, much less to themselves, how little attention they actually paid to the man. They comisserated with his father when that father ranted about having a useless disgrace for a son; they agreed with the taverness whenever she berated him for not taking action like their masked hero, but the simple truth was that most of them never really noticed the man. Even the taverness herself, supposed to be his best friend, had shrugged off his absence, assuming that he had lost himself in some book or experiment and that he'd come to the tavern to tell her all about it when he had finished; never noticing that whenever she directed a concerned question to his father that the older man wouldn't actually answer but would instead begin another of his rants that would end up distracting her from her concerns. The taverness never realised that to her friend, her inconsiderate actions of never checking up on him in person and allowing herself to be distracted were no different in the end than the deliberately harsh and malicious actions of his father. Deliberate or accidental, they all hurt him. They all helped to push him to the breaking point on which he teetered...

The gunshot's crack had him out the front door of _The Guardian_ without thinking about it and he began to cross the Pueblo towards the tavern, scenario after grim scenario of what might have happened crossing his mind. So caught up was he in downward spiraling thoughts that he never noticed the lancer that almost ran into him calling out his name.

"Don Diego! Don Diego! Don Di-" the Lancer realised that he had about run over the very man he had been sent after and stopped, "Don Diego, Sergeant Mendoza sends me; there has been a shooting, a drunk at the tavern, he made advances towards _Senorita_ Victoria... He became angry and drew his gun, Filipe, he stepped in... the man shot him..."

Diego's face paled and he moved the Lancer physically to the side, not caring if anyone saw or paid attention to his sudden increase in physical ability, and began to run towards the tavern, calling back, "Get Doctor Hernandez, hurry!"

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* * *

It was hours later when Doctor Hernandez stepped out of his surgery to address the young Don that was waiting for him.

"Filipe is fortunate, Don Diego," Hernandez spoke, "He is young and the bullet did not hit any vital organs. It will take him time, and plenty of rest, but he will recover almost fully. Some pain when the weather changes, perhaps, will be all, and the scars, of course."

Diego let out a long sigh, "Thank you, Doctor. I am most glad to hear that. I will have Juan come with a wagon to take Filipe back to the Hacienda."

"I could also prescribe rest for you, Don Diego," Doctor Hernandez observed, "Before today, you haven't been sleeping well? Eating well?"

"I have had certain troubles recently, yes," Diego admitted to one of the few other 'men of books' in the Pueblo, "But it is not an illness."

"Not of the body, perhaps... But even a doctor like myself knows that the body isn't all that can become tired," Hernandez said softly, "I suspect that what troubles you is more Padre Benitez's line of work than my own, Don Diego. Perhaps you should speak with him?"

"I doubt there is much the good Padre could do to help me, Doctor," Diego answered.

"Diego... when I became a doctor, I swore the oath; 'In whatever house I may enter, may I first do no harm'. Sometimes, the question is not what help can be given, but what harm can be done... Talk to the Padre; what harm can it do?"

Carefully, Diego stood up, "_Si_, Doctor, if you insist..."

"I insist," the doctor nodded, "I will watch Filipe until your wagon comes for him."

"_Gracias_," Diego replied before turning to the door.

-o0o-

* * *

"I heard about the events earlier today, Don Diego," Padre Benitez greeted the young Don when Diego entered the church, "I pray you have not come for a grim purpose..."

"No, Padre," Diego shook his head, "Filipe will live. Doctor Hernandez says that except for the scars he should recover completely... The reason I came is I need..."

Diego's eyes had been moving throughout the church as he spoke, but when they landed on a certain object he suddenly found himself filled with a terrible resolve, "Actually, Padre, could you give me a few minutes alone?"

"Of course, my son," Padre Benitez nodded, "Sometimes one wishes to speak to the Lord themselves."

"Thank you," Diego managed to control himself as he answered.

The Padre patted the young Don on the shoulder before exiting the church, making sure that the doors shut securely behind him; whatever would happen behind those doors was between Diego and God, something man had no business knowing.

After a moment, Diego looked up at the Cross on the wall behind the altar with fire in his eyes and no trace of the manners and culture that had been a part of him for so long, "I cannot even begin to describe you right now, you know that?"

Slowly, methodically, Diego began walking down the center aisle of the church, never pausing in his speech, "Filipe tries to help the woman that for some reason, despite everything, I still love... and you have him shot by a drunkard. Was that supposed to be funny? They say that the Lord works in mysterious ways His miracles to perform... I don't know whose ass they're kissing, because I think you're just vindictive. What was Filipe, a warning shot? That's my _son_! What did I ever do to yours but praise his glory and praise his name? Thank you, Lord! _Yes_, I lie! It's a sin, I've committed many sins. Have I displeased you, you ungrateful thug? How many unjust taxes have I made be repealed? How many people have been freed from being imprisoned for crimes they didn't commit? How many people did I help at the University? I give money to the mission, my time to the orphans. I work to keep _The Guardian_ an honest newspaper and not a mouthpiece for a corrupt Alcalde! The de la Vega lands created forty new jobs for the peons last year alone! I've given money from my own purse to those who needed it for food, taxes, clothes... And yet my father hates me, the woman I love ignores me, my son could have died today... Am I to believe these things from a righteous God? A just God? A wise God?"

By this point, Diego had reached the other end of the church and was standing at the altar itself, "To _Hell_ with your punishments! I was your servant; your messenger on Earth! I did my duty! This is how I'm repaid for it? To Hell with your punishments and to Hell with you!"

Spinning on his heel, Diego turned and marched back down the aisle towards the doors, pausing as he passed the last pews to turn and throw one last statement back over his shoulder, "No more, it is over, I am done."


	5. Admitting To A Classmate

Author's Note: The 365 Project is an experimental _multi-fandom_ project to write and post at least one short every day for the next year, not including my semi-regular bi-weekly updates. For more details, see the relevent section in my profile. This is The 365 Project, 24 August.

In the immortal words of Samuel L. Clemens... "Persons attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted; persons attempting to find a moral in it will be banished; persons attempting to find a plot in it will be shot. BY ORDER OF THE AUTHOR."

Disclaimer: Zorro (this version, at least) belongs to New World Entertainment and the Family Channel and is used without permission or intent to profit.

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"Admission"  
'Admitting To A Schoolmate'  
By J.T. Magnus, 'Turbo'

-o0O0o-

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Alcalde Ignacio DeSoto entered his office with a sigh; even with no appearance made by Zorro, the day had been long and frustrating, especially with a drunken traveller who was to stay overnight at the tavern making advances on Senorita Escalante and shooting the de la Vega's servant when the boy had intervened. He was just thankful that the people of the Pueblo had for once allowed him to do his job and have his lancers take the drunkard into custody instead of the usual support they showed criminals; criminals like that blasted Zorro. They complained about taxes, but did any of them ever once stop to consider the costs of gunpowder and bullets to replace those used trying to catch Zorro; of repairs to the cuartel walls and Lancer uniforms after having Z's slashed into them; or even the costs of care for the horses the Lancers rode when they chased the outlaw, including replacing shoes that had worn or been thrown? Sometimes, DeSoto truely believed the Dons and peons simply thought that all the taxes collected in the pueblo went into his own pocket. It wasn't that he didn't take his own share of the tax money, he would admit that to himself if no other, but he at least had the common decency to take it from what was left after the necessities of the pueblo and the Lancers were paid for.

"I would say '_buenos noches_', Alcalde, but I am sure you would agree that there has been little 'good' about today," a voice greeted, causing DeSoto to turn his attention to his desk and the man sitting behind it with an uncommon glass of wine in his hand - from DeSoto's own stock from the looks of the bottle on the desk.

"De la Vega," DeSoto frowned at him, "What are you doing in my office?"

"I have had a... revelation, Alcalde," Diego answered, holding up the wineglass in a salute, "We both want the same thing, Ignacio. For you to leave Los Angeles, for me to live outside his shadow... Zorro must meet his end."

"Does your father know you're saying such things?" DeSoto taunted with a smirk.

"Quite frankly, I find myself no longer caring what my father does or does not know... what he does or does not think," Diego admitted as he sat down his glass and picked up a sword that was laying on the desk, "There are days I have begun to wonder which of us, as he so often accuses me of being, is the one living off the de la Vega name..."

DeSoto fingered the hilt of the sword at his waist as he thought the situation over, "I'm afraid I can only grant part of your wish, de la Vega; Zorro will meet his end and I will finally be permitted to return to Spain in triumph... but you will not live to see it. Entering my office this way, that sword, I've had my suspicions, de la Vega, but you've made the mistake of proving them - _you _are Zorro!"

Like lightning, DeSoto drew his sword, only for the blade to be caught against the blade of Diego's own sword, more familiar to the Alcalde when in Zorro's hand, when the other man had quickly stood up to meet the threat.

"Zorro has ridden for the last time, Ignacio," the young Don informed him, "I am offering you a chance to benefit from it."

"And all I have to do is call out for my Lancers and you'll never leave this office, _Zorro_," DeSoto countered, "Driven mad by the shooting of his servant, the heir to the de la Vega name blames the pueblo's Alcalde and tries to assassinate him in the night, only to be slain by the brave Lancers of the King's army; Zorro won't even need to be brought up, he'll just vanish."

"You've always known I'm the better swordsman, Ignacio," Diego reminded him, "I might have always seen it as a way to tone the body and focus the mind rather than some grand championship of manhood like so many of our classmates, but you know as well as anyone what I can do when I choose not to hide my skill. You know as well as anyone who attended the University the only way I could be carrying this sword."

"And what makes you think I won't be perfectly fine with trading swords after you're dead?" DeSoto challenged.

"Do you really think you'll live long enough to enjoy it if you or your Lancers kill me, Ignacio?" Diego shook his head, "I still remember how at the University, how jealous you were of my relation to His Majesty. Do you expect him not to order an investigation into the death of a cousin, Alcalde?"

"Why should I believe you'll simply stop your masquerade, de la Vega, if I let you go?"

"I told you, Ignacio, I'm tired; tired of riding out to fight for people who've lost their willingness to fight for themselves; tired of listening to people talk about how wonderful Zorro is and what a disgrace Diego is, usually in the same blasted sentence; tired of sacrificing everything when nobody cares... one person, Ignacio - one person in this entire pueblo cares, maybe two, and even noticed when I stopped making appearances. Two people. And right now, one of them is laying in bed recovering from surgery... and it wasn't even because Filipe knows my secret that he was shot, he was shot simply because he was the only person who would stand up and say that a man is supposed to treat a woman respectfully! And I'm tired of it!"

Diego's volume had risen throughout his speech and left DeSoto uncertain of speaking, not wanting to say anything that might set the other man off and result in the loss of the Alcalde's own head.

"All you ever had to do was be fair and just and there would have been no further need for Zorro after Ramon's death... and you couldn't even do that!" Diego's rant still turned in DeSoto's direction, despite the Alcalde's caution, "You couldn't think that perhaps doing the exact same things that Ramon had done wouldn't help the situation any and maybe it would be worth it to try something new, no... That's too much work!"

DeSoto looked at the man on the other side of the desk from him for a moment, appraisingly, before he reached an obvious conclusion...

"De la Vega... you are drunk," the Alcade observed, then took his free hand and punched the Don, knocking him into unconsciousness.


	6. Admitting To The Outlaw

Author's Note: The 365 Project is an experimental _multi-fandom_ project to write and post at least one short every day for the next year, not including my semi-regular bi-weekly updates. For more details, see the relevent section in my profile. This is The 365 Project, 7 October.

In the immortal words of Samuel L. Clemens... "Persons attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted; persons attempting to find a moral in it will be banished; persons attempting to find a plot in it will be shot. BY ORDER OF THE AUTHOR."

Disclaimer: Zorro (this version, at least) belongs to New World Entertainment and the Family Channel and is used without permission or intent to profit.

-o0O0o-

"Admission"

'Admitting to The Outlaw'

By J.T. Magnus, 'Turbo'

-o0O0o-

Diego awoke with a bitter taste in his mouth, a cottony taste that brought back memories of Madrid and the wanton days of indulgence that he had there with no secrets to keep or price on his head. Happier days, drunk as much on the knowledge he was gaining as on the wine and without the weight of so many people's reliance on his shoulders.

"I'd say 'good morning', de la Vega," a man's voice remarked with undisguised amusement, "But I sincerely doubt you're feeling very 'good' this morning."

"First time I've actually drank more than a couple glasses of wine in years," Diego answered, "It seems I am out of practice."

"Very," de Soto agreed, "You are a talkative drunk, de la Vega."

"I am well aware of that," the Don admitted, "Why do you think I do not drink?"

"And," the Alcade continued, "To my regret, a truthful one as well. After due consideration, I must agree with your statement of the night; I have allowed my actions since coming to Los Angeles to defeat the very purpose behind them. It is unfortunate for all of us that I was too blinded by my desire to return to Spain to a hero's welcome to see that until now."

"If I had known this was all it would take," the bleary-eyed Don muttered, "I would have gotten drunk much sooner..."

"I believe I see now," de Soto began to pace the room, "It is like one of those toys you found so entertaining at the University - the Oriental one, made of the strips of wood, the one in which someone placed their fingers and couldn't remove them by trying to remove them, but had to push them in further to loosen the bonds."

"The Chinese finger-trap," Diego stated.

"Whatever you wish to call it," de Soto rolled his eyes, "The only to escape is to give in. Quite applicable to our current situation since, as you said before, the only way we can each have our desire is by working together to do away with Zorro. Something for which, by your visit, I assume you have a plan?"

"Actually," de la Vega conceeded, "I do not. My mind has been troubled of late and it has sapped my creativity and drive. If anything, my visit was in hopes, I believe, that you had yet another of your many plans to deal with _el Zorro_ which we might be able to adapt for our use..."

That admission made the Alcalde laugh, "The fox's true identity comes to his greatest enemy for advice on how to do away with the fox. Oh, de la Vega, you are a devil."

"Oh, but you are not my greatest enemy, Ignacio," Diego stood up and drew himself up as best as he could before answering the other man's questioning look, "Victoria still does not know that her dashing hero Zorro and the indolent bookworm Don Diego are the same person. I have more to fear from her than from any man..."


End file.
